His Father's Eyes
by Aletta
Summary: Squall and Ellone's arrival at Edea's orphanage, from Edea's POV. My first peice of Final Fantasy fanfiction and me working out some feelings about my own mother (my mother is a preschool teacher).


"His Father's Eyes"

"His Father's Eyes"

The sea breeze felt good, still cool, but with the warm promise of spring beginning to whisper beneath the chill. Edea Kramer sighed and brushed a long, stray strand of raven hair out of her eyes, and stared out over the ocean. It felt good to have a minute to herself; since the Sorceress War suddenly and unexplainably came to a grinding halt, war orphans had been pouring in from every part of the world. Edea was devoted to protecting and raising these children, and finding them good homes…but still, considering the fact that she had no less than seven children under the age of two—on top of her older orphans--currently residing in the old stone ruin, she was starting to feel frazzled.

She heard a discontented baby's wail in the background. She listened for a moment, identified the baby as young Zell, and glanced down at her watch. Two o'clock; he was probably hungry. She smiled slightly as she heard her husband begin to speak to the baby; just like a man to try and convince a hungry baby he should stop crying with logic.

"He wants his bottle, Cid." Edea shouted back at the building. "You'd better feed him or he'll wake the others."

The hiccuping sobs of the baby and Cid's confused mumblings about where the heck that bottle had gotten off to in the refrigerator made her smile. "Do you want me to come take care of it?" she asked.

"No, no, you need some time to yourself." Cid protested. "I can…ah-ha! There we go. Bottle. Here you…what?!" Zell's crying paused for a second, then began again in earnest.

"You have to warm it up or he won't drink it." Edea cautioned.

"I can see that."

"There's hot water already simmering on the stove, dear, just stick the bottle in it for a few minutes. But make sure you test it before you give it to him. You don't want it to get too hot."

"I know, I know." Cid's sigh was clear even from this distance. "I can handle it, darling, you relax."

Edea chuckled to herself and looked back out over the ocean. There was no such thing as relaxation for a mother…even if she wasn't biologically the mother of anyone. That still disappointed and bothered her sometimes. Edea sobered, her mood turning reflective. Whether it was due to some fault in her biologically, or due to some quirk of being a Sorceress, Edea was incapable of bearing children. In all honesty, she herself didn't know why that was. She'd never heard of a Sorceress having children anytime recently, but history seemed to suggest it was possible. The Great Hyne was supposed to have given the Sorceress power to his descendants…and it was theorized that the reason only certain women could inherit Sorceress power was because they too were descended from the Hyne. It seemed to Edea that being a Sorceress therefore didn't necessarily preclude a woman from becoming a mother…though the only other Sorceress alive that she knew of, Adel of Esthar, had never borne a child either. No, the fault probably lay with Edea herself…though what it was, and how to fix it, was beyond both modern science and the powers of her own Sorcery.

She supposed the reasons didn't really matter. She could never have children. When she first realized this, it almost broke her heart. It was then that she decided to devote herself to the raising and aiding of children who had no family. They were kindred spirits, of a sort, the children who needed a family's—a _mother's_—love but had no one to give it, and the woman who wanted badly to give that love but could never have a child of her own.

No, that wasn't true, she told herself stubbornly. _They_ were her children. They were as much her children as they were the children of their biological parents. Even when she turned them over to an adoptive family, they were still very much her children, in a way. She had loved them, and nurtured them, and found them a good home…

But they weren't hers. They were never hers, they never would be. She tended them knowing that one day she would have to give them up…and they weren't hers to begin with. Loving them was painful…and doubting their love was worse. How could they truly love her when she lacked the basic tie—the blood tie—that bound a child to it's parent?

"Mrs. Kramer? Mrs. Edea Kramer?"

Edea hadn't heard the stranger come up behind her. Surprised, she got up and turned to face him. "Yes, I'm Edea." She said. A uniformed solider of Galbadia? He was carrying a familiarly shaped bundle…and behind him, peering from behind his legs, were the eyes of a small child.

"You run this establishment?"

"Yes. My husband and I run the orphanage." She replied. She bent down, hands on her knees, and peeked at the little girl. "I take it Galbadia would like to give these orphans to my charge?" she smiled and gave the little girl a wave. The child stared at her for a moment, then giggled. She had a catchy little laugh.

"Our own orphanages are filled to capacity…and the circumstances regarding this pair are…unusual." The solider replied. "I think we'd better discuss this…hey!"

Edea expertly relieved him of the bundle. "Yes, whatever." She said absently, looking down at the baby. "Hello, there, little one." Another infant…quite a young one. Less than two months old if Edea was any judge. "What are their names? Never mind, I'll ask the child." She bent down again to be on the little girl's eye level, still carefully holding the baby. "What's your name, dearest?"

"Ellone." The girl said cheerfully.

Ellone...Ellone…

_"I'm sorry…she hasn't passed this way…is she your daughter?"_

"No…she's just so cute…and the Estharian soldiers…" 

Could it just be a coincidence of names? Edea straightened, eyes still locked on the child's. "That's my little brother." Ellone went on. "I have to look out for him. He's Aunt Raine's baby. Aunt Raine said to look out for him until Uncle Laguna came back." She anxiously up at the solider. "Uncle Laguna _is_ coming back, right?"

The solider and Edea shared a look. _She doesn't really understand_, Edea thought sadly. _He was already here. I wonder if he's still even alive? So many have died in the war…_

"Perhaps you're right. We should talk inside." Edea said, nodding in the direction of her house. "This way."

Ellone was promptly engaged in a game of chase outside in the flower field with some of the other young children, under the mindful eye of some of the young teens. Edea watched from the window, still cradling the baby, while she listened to the Galbadian talk. "…The villagers sent the children to the orphanage in Deling City." The solider said. "But it's already filled past capacity. On top of that, the villager who brought them to us told a rather disturbing tale of repeated attempts by Esthar to kidnap the girl—one of which succeeded, though she was eventually returned. Shortly afterwards, her caretaker, a young woman named Raine, died…the infant is her son. She had no family, and the boy's father left to look for the girl when she was abducted but never returned. The villagers…were rather displeased. Raine was very well loved…and I'm afraid they weren't much disposed to feeling charitable towards the son of the man they've come to blame for much, even for her sake. As for the girl…they weren't inclined to keep her, fearing another attack. We ourselves can't risk having her in a big city like the capital, Mrs. Kramer. She'd draw too much attention. Imagine what would happen if Esthar—or somebody else—came after her again? It would endanger the entire city."

"That's understandable." Edea replied. She looked back down at the infant. He looked back up at her, his misty blue eyes fixing quite determinedly on her dark ones. Where they his father's eyes, or merely the fading blue of a newborn? "What are their name's?"

"Ellone's own parents died some time ago. We don't know what her full name is; the villagers didn't call her anything but Ellone. As for the boy, his given name is Squall. His mother's last name was Leonhart, so far as we know. There seems to be no consensus as to whether his father was married to his mother; the two villagers who brought them to us couldn't agree on the subject. It matters little; we don't even know his name. Ellone calls him Uncle Laguna…other than that…" the solider shrugged. "She slurs words, sometimes. That might not even be the father's first name…assuming Uncle Laguna is Squall's father. The villagers didn't mention that, either. They weren't inclined to talk about him."

Edea ran a finger across the baby's cheek. "I'm overloaded myself." She said quietly. "The war with Esthar has left many children orphans. Entire families have been destroyed. And the actions of your own country have not been precisely been blameless —I have many orphans here from Timber, you know…"

The solider was silent.

"But that doesn't matter. I'll keep them." Edea said without looking up. "I don't hold children accountable for the actions and sins of their parents and homeland."

-_Not that your father was guilty of anything but loving and ignorance-_ Edea thought, gazing at the baby _–Loving Ellone enough to risk everything to find her…and ignorance of your own existence. Laguna spoke of his wife…but made no mention of you. He didn't even know about you. I wonder if he ever will?-_

__"I'll keep them." She repeated, standing. "Cid?" she turned to face her husband, guilt and worry masking her elegant features. They were already so crowded….

"We'll make arrangements." Cid assured her. "What's two more when we're already over capacity as it is?" he shrugged and smiled. "We'll make do. We always have."

Edea smiled gratefully at him.

"Thank you." The solider said quietly.

"Your government can thank me by contributing something to the orphanage." Edea said seriously. "Since I'm tending not only their orphans, but orphans they created."

"I'll make arrangements." The solider promised.

"It would be appreciated." Edea replied. "Now, if you'd pardon me, I have work to do. As I said, the wars have left many orphans, and we have only my husband and myself to tend the children. Perhaps you could be so kind as to work your arrangements out with Cid, as I really should get back to the children."

Edea left then, leaving the men to discuss the financial arrangements, Squall still cradled in her arms.

"Sis!"

Edea watched as Ellone laughed and narrowly avoided letting the determined toddlers catch her as they played in the front yard…except for Squall, whom she dragged around after her by the hand. Any of the other young ones would've protested this treatment; Squall just toddled after her as fast as he could, determined not to be left behind by the only one of the other children he unconditionally adored. Squall was a strange child, a loner, and not one to join in games…but Ellone could get Squall to do anything, even play with the other children. He followed her around like a puppy.

She was amused by the child's eagerness and devotion…and no little touched and saddened. The determination and devotion in the little boy's incredible blue eyes—his father's eyes—reminded her powerfully of the man who'd loved a little girl so much he'd risked—and apparently lost—everything to save her. In two years, neither Edea nor Cid had been able to find any trace of Laguna Loire, the man Ellone spoke of following and adoring much the way Laguna's son adored and followed her. Ellone still spoke of her 'Uncle Laguna' and the way things would be when 'Uncle Laguna' came for her and Squall. The child simply refused to admit that her adored Uncle was probably gone forever.

It was somehow poetic…and very sad, yet somehow thinking about it always comforted Edea. The purity the love in a child's blue eyes, so reminiscent of his father's eyes…and the returned devotion in the eyes his adored 'Sis''…

Edea smiled as Ellone finally picked Squall up and carried him, an incredible feat considering how tiny the girl was. She'd learned a valuable lesson from the pair, and the long vanished Loire. Blood ties didn't matter; love mattered…and loss didn't matter. Ellone loved her Uncle Laguna and Raine as devoted now, two years after she'd lost them, as she did the day she was brought to the orphanage. It made accepting her orphan's devotion to her as being as real and unconditional as hers was to them easier…and gave her no end of comfort.

Quite a lesson to learn from a man who was a memory memory, and a pair of children's eyes.


End file.
